AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I’m gone for five minutes to take a shit, and you think you can break our contract?” Ezra tugs at my hair, jerking me around like I am an insubordinate child. “Give the man back his coin. We have unfinished business.”
His voice is that of stone.
Cold.
Immovable.
So different from the sweet man I’ve grown to rely on.
Ezra stands tall, with the confidence of a bear. He doesn’t care that he has no rank in a room full of soldiers or that he is outnumbered. He controls me like I belong to him and looks at Graves like he is a fool to try and take what is his.
Graves meets Ezra’s gaze, likely trying to decide if I’m worth the trouble, then laughs. “It’s all good, my friend, no coin was spent. Besides, I’d rather not break the new girls in. They get clingy, if you know what I mean.”
He waits for Ezra to agree, but my friend doesn’t waste his words on him. Graves forces himself to laugh at the insult. I doubt any woman would cling to someone as vile as him. If someone did, he should feel grateful, not make a mockery out of her feelings.
I bite my tongue, tasting the bitterness of blood, careful not to voice my opinions, and force Ezra into roughhousing me as penance.
Graves tucks his thumbs into the band of his pants, his shoulders bouncing with simulated glee as he retreats to his chair. “Send the lass my way once you’re done.”
Ezra responds to the request by sheathing his sword. Their standoff is done. He shoves me forward, not giving me time to say goodbye to anyone.
Sage looks at me, an apology in her eyes, but the words don't leave her lips. Not that I expect them to. She owes me nothing.
Ezra, on the other hand, that man owes me an explanation for the erratic behavior.
I stop walking near the center of the room and glare at the man I thought I knew. “What the hell was that about?”
Ezra only looks at me to grab me by the arm. I frown and dig my heels into the ground but my attempts to stay put are useless. He candrag a stubborn mule across the farm. I’m featherlight compared to them.
I give up my fight, relenting to walk, but whisper, “Mind your grip, Ezra. You’re hurting me.”
Ezra doesn’t answer me, but his fingers loosen. Deep red marks pepper my skin in the shape of his hand. I never consider myself a fragile girl. I am used to cuts and bumps and bruises, but knowing that this mark comes from the hand of someone I consider to be a friend infuriates me.
Ezra will likely never notice what he has done. I will don my cloak on the way to our lodging this evening and my magic will erase the marks before the morning’s first light, but he knows some of my traumas.
He knows this moment will be a splinter in my mind for weeks.
I expected more from my friend.
Ezra guides us to a card table near the throwing wall. He takes an open chair and joins three men in their game. I pay his table mates no mind and stand with my arms crossed, glaring, pissed that he intervened without my signal. I had everything under control. I don’t need his help.
Ezra grabs my elbow and tugs me onto his lap. It takes everything I have to swallow my pride and curl my body around his. I want to punch him in the throat for how he is treating me and thoroughly plan to give him a verbal lashing once the night is over, but for the time being, I oblige because it’s what a working girl would do.
I cross my legs at the knees, left over the right, so that my skirt exposes the freckles of my thigh while concealing the dagger and strap I am hiding. I should stop here and not tease Ezra with what he’ll never have, but I’m angry, and I want him to feel my frustration.
If he wants to act like an ass, fine. I can play my part, too, and pretend to be the girl he’s hired for the night.
I swivel, purposefully pressing my ass into Ezra’s lap, and shift to where he is the sole object of my attention. I drape one arm around him, mimicking what I saw Sage do with Harrison earlier, and play with the little black curls at his collar.
“First night?” one of the men at the table asks.
I assume the question is for me and glance over my shoulder. The scruff on the soldier’s chin is a fiery red but, like most Cerise men, the hair on his head is more brown than copper. His presence aggravates me. Theland is riddled with Cerise, but because men are born with a dick, they aren’t judged the way Cerise women are.
I flutter my eyes, knowing Ezra has a jealous streak in him, and flirt with the soldier. “Perhaps. Would you be intrigued if I were a virgin?”
“I didn’t pay for the girl’s time so she can talk to you, Joseph,” Ezra growls as he takes his cards from the table dealer—a man with a thick beard and hat with long panels that cover most of his cheeks. Like the other players, he also has cards, which makes me wonder how Ezra can be sure he isn't a cheat.
Ezra tips the edge of his cards upward to see their suits. I’ve only played poker three times and learned half the battle is having a good hand (which I never have) while the other half is bluffing your way to a win. I find the game complicated. There are too many patterns to remember. I can’t ever tell if I’m winning or losing, so I avoid the game.
